eneath which the trail led them.

Tarzan let the first two pass beneath him, but as the third came
swiftly on, the quiet noose dropped about the black throat. A quick
jerk drew it taut.

There was an agonized scream from the victim, and his fellows turned to
see his struggling body rise as by magic slowly into the dense foliage
of the trees above.

With frightened shrieks they wheeled once more and plunged on in their
efforts to escape.

Tarzan dispatched his prisoner quickly and silently; removed the
weapons and ornaments, and--oh, the greatest joy of all--a handsome
deerskin breechcloth, which he quickly transferred to his own person.

Now indeed was he dressed as a man should be. None there was who could
now doubt his high origin. How he should have liked to have returned
to the tribe to parade before their envious gaze this wondrous finery.

Taking the body across his shoulder, he moved more slowly through the
trees toward the little palisaded village, for he again needed arrows.

As he approached quite close to the enclosure he saw an excited group
surrounding the two fugitives, who, trembling with fright and
exhaustion, were scarce able to recount the uncanny details of their
adventure.

Mirando, they said, who had been ahead of them a short distance, had
suddenly come screaming toward them, crying that a terrible white and
naked warrior was pursuing him. The three of them had hurried toward
the village as rapidly as their legs would carry them.

Again Mirando's shrill cry of mortal terror had caused them to look
back, and there they had seen the most horrible sight--their
companion's body flying upwards into the trees, his arms and legs
beating the air and his tongue protruding from his open mouth. No
other sound did he utter nor was there any creature in sight about him.

The villagers were worked up into a state of fear bordering on panic,
but wise old Mbonga affected to feel considerable skepticism regarding
the tale, and attributed the whole fabrication to their fright in the
face of some real danger.

"You tell us this great story," he said, "because you do not dare to
speak the truth. You do not dare admit that when the lion sprang upon
Mirando you ran away and left him. You are cowards."

Scarcely had Mbonga ceased speaking when a great crashing of branches
in the trees above them caused the blacks to look up in renewed terror.
The sight that met their eyes made even wise old Mbonga sh